


Obligation

by paxnirvana



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-13
Updated: 2010-09-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 18:53:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxnirvana/pseuds/paxnirvana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Schuldig takes advantage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obligation

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Borderline non-con. Not nice AT ALL. Pretty freakin' twisted, actually. ::shivers:: Sorry, nekojita, but I just can't write "nice" Schu x Aya... not without giving Aya serious drugs!

* * * * *

The hand in the center of his back between his shoulder blades pressed hard; the one on his wrist wrenched his arm up as he was shoved into the parking garage wall ruthlessly. The sound of their scuffle echoed dully in the dim space, trapped and reflected by the cars parked thickly around them. Teeth bared, he tried to slam his head back into his attacker's face, only to miss as the other jerked nimbly back, taunting him with mocking laughter. A hard thigh thrust between his legs, pressing up and rocking him forward, crushing out his breath on the arm trapped between his body and the wall. He staggered and tried to keep from falling, held up only by the brutal hold on his arm, his back. The other just laughed again, derisive and low.

The hand on his back shifted up until a hand curved tightly around the back of his neck, strong fingers cupping his skull and pressing his face against cold concrete. Hot breath washed across his nape. He suppressed a shudder of revulsion, of hatred, even knowing the other could pick those thoughts right out of his mind.

"Ah, this kitten still thinks he has claws, does he?"

He didn't answer, concentrating on keeping his breathing even, his body as relaxed and ready as possible.

"Really, Abyssinian, I thought you'd learned how helpless you are against me long ago. Why do you still fight me so?"

He couldn't suppress the silent snarl that curled his lip. Or the tormenting memory that tore through him. Of the picture sent to him anonymously. Of Aya-chan at her nursing school in Europe, smiling happily up at her new gaijin boyfriend. Her new orange-haired, blue-eyed _German_ boyfriend.

Schuldig picked the memory right out of his mind, laughing softly, mockingly in his ear.

"Ah, yes. Such a delightful girl - now that she's awake."

"You are not to see her anymore. That is the deal," he said, and the words felt torn from his throat, his body stiff with barely-suppressed outrage.

"Or what, Abyssinian?" Schuldig purred softly, his amusement plain. "Or you'll kill me? Do you truly think you can? And would you bring such heartache to your dear imouto? I think she honestly believes she loves me..."

He snarled in fury and couldn't keep himself from bucking backwards, the move rendered futile by the hold the taller man had on his arm. Schuldig just wrenched it up further, grinding his cheek into the wall until he subsided, panting and aching, feeling as if his arm were about to break, frustrated anger like a lead weight in his gut. Helpless... he was trapped... but he had to protect...

"Me, Schuldig," he hissed out between clenched teeth, playing the only card he knew he had. "It is me you want - leave her out of this."

More laughter and the heat of eager breath on his neck again, the faintest of brushes against his skin. Lips? He shuddered.

"Oh, yes. It _is_ you I want."

His eyes narrowed at the blatant lust in the other man's voice, the surge of a heavy groin against his buttocks. "Leave her alone. Never see her again..."

"And?"

"...And I will... submit... to you."

Schuldig froze against his back, apparently reading the truth of his words from his mind. And he did mean them. He would submit... if it would spare Aya-chan... if he could just protect her in this way... keep her safe in both heart and body. Losing her boyfriend without explanation would be painful, but in the long run far, far better. If Schuldig could be trusted at all... if Schuldig could be distracted with something he seemed to want more... until...

"Clever kitty. Not a bad plan. Very attractive. But do you truly think I'll ever drop my guard around you enough to let you kill me?"

"I am patient."

Mocking laughter. "Are you now? Is this a trait you've mastered recently? Are you sure you're any good at it?" The hand on the back of his head shifted, easing the brutal hold at last, fingers sifting through his hair a moment before dropping away. He could feel Schuldig fumbling in his own coat pocket, drawing something out. The other man shifted back slightly, moving his hands together. Almost at once, he felt the coldness of metal close around his wrist, heard the sharp ratcheting sound as it was snugged tight. Handcuffs.

"Give me your other hand."

The order made him clench his teeth as he struggled to keep hold of his self-control. He'd be truly helpless then. Everything in him, everything he was rebelled at the idea of being cuffed and at Schuldig's mercy. Defeated. But wasn't he already? By the very reason he'd come to this assignation, alone and unarmed, in the first place - the threat to Aya-chan.

"Do we have a deal?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Give me your hand."

The internal conflict raged; with his pride, with his protectiveness, with what he knew of the Schwartz member. Not to be trusted. A murderous manipulator. A devious, lying, conscienceless mind-reader. The knee between his legs abruptly shifted up, pressing tightly against his testicles. He gave an involuntary grunt, fighting the urge to breathe shallowly at the silent threat.

"Such nasty thoughts you have, my kitten," Schuldig breathed in his ear with mock regret before his voice hardened again, dripping venom now. "Give me your hand. I won't _ask_ again."

Schuldig eased the pressure on his back enough so that he could move. Fighting the urge to strike back, he slowly eased his trapped arm out. Let it hang at his side for a moment until it became apparent what Schuldig was waiting for. Clenching his teeth, he twisted his own arm behind his back, laying it over the other metal-clad wrist himself.

"Very good, kitten, you're learning," Schuldig murmured as he deftly cuffed his wrist. Heart pounding, he lay still against the wall, aching with self-loathing and bitter self-recrimination, as Schuldig gathered the short chain in one hand, holding him in place easily as he began to stroke down his side and hip with the other.

"Now, to finish setting the scene," Schuldig said thoughtfully, glancing around for a moment. He let out a hiss of anger as he was unceremoniously yanked away from the wall and spun toward a nearby car. His knees and thighs hit the fender hard, his body slamming down with breath-stealing force on the hood as Schuldig followed him down, draping himself over his back, holding his bound wrists pinned in one hand, the other braced above his shoulder.

He gasped for air as Schuldig first dragged the skirts of his coat to the side, then kicked his legs wide, leaving his lower half hanging off the hood of the car as the other man placed himself between his legs. Schuldig's erection ground into his backside and he could hear the man's quickened, eager breaths louder than the sound of their scuffle.

"Ah, yes, that's better," Schuldig purred in his ear before drawing back to look down his captive's body. His hands were pushed to the side over the bunched up coat, one arm stretched, the other bent up almost painfully high beside his ribs. That gave Schuldig an unobstructed view of his black slacks clad ass arched over the fender of the car - a sight that he felt sufficiently inspired to pass along to him in a dizzying mental blend of shared sight and cruel, heated thoughts. He shook his head trying to drive the images of his own pinned body away, failed.

"Does that bother you?" Schuldig laughed, amusement ringing clear both out loud and in his head. "Yes, I can see that it does... Ah, such modesty. How very Japanese of you. Pity, because you have quite a fine ass."

He managed to draw a full breath at last. "Do we have a deal, Schwarz?" he ground out. The dual images of his own sprawled body superimposed over the garage beyond were making his stomach churn, his brain whirl dizzily. He shut his eyes, but that only made the images Schuldig was feeding him sharper, the thoughts accompanying them more intense. Lustful, eager thoughts... of penetration... of anticipation... of conquest... Schuldig's hand released his wrists and skimmed down his back, smoothing almost reverently across the rounded arch of one muscular buttock. He forced his eyes open again, staring desperately at the meaningless sign painted on the small white van parked beyond. Wishing desperately for something, anything to obliterate the image of Schuldig's hand tracing down the crack of his ass, the simultaneous feel of it making his pulse jump sickly, his body flinch.

"So formal - a deal? Perhaps... If I find you worth the effort."

Then he could feel - and see - Schuldig's hand slide around his waist, the nimble fingers tugging at his belt, then the closings of his slacks until they fell in a jingle around his ankles exposing the tidy white of his briefs. Schuldig seemed amused by the sight, running a fingertip under the elastic waistband and chuckling to himself before hooking long fingers in them and stripping them down to join the slacks around his ankles.

He shivered as his skin was exposed to the cool air of the parking garage. Schuldig had left him to lay prone on the hood of the car, stepping behind him and putting one foot firmly on the cloth tangled around his ankles to pin his legs in place before he could gather enough focus to kick him. The view of his own body intensified, narrowed down to the slender line of his back, the firm curve of his buttocks where they joined toned thighs. Lingered on the shadowed seam between them, the just-visible wrinkled, reddish sac hanging below. Schuldig's hand touched him at the base of his spine, fingers probing down into that seam, and he jerked at the concurrent image/touch, seeing his upper body rise up, feeling himself lift away from the car in unsteady confusion. Only to have Schuldig shove him back down on flexing metal, hard. Nausea churned in his stomach, a grinding ache started behind his eyes.

"Stop it!" he hissed, shaking his head angrily.

"You don't enjoy sharing?" Schuldig said with false lightness, clearly pleased to have made him uncomfortable enough to react.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself!"

"No, I don't think I will, my kitten," Schuldig said smugly. "I think you will have to take me that way as well..." Mentally he cursed himself for voicing his discomfort - the telepath might have overlooked it otherwise, distracted by raping him physically alone. He was mildly surprised that Schuldig did not comment on that bitter thought, but the other man was leaning forward, dragging his coat and sweater up to expose more of his back as hard hips thrust against his ass, the image of his own pale skin, his bound arms, his tumbled red hair surging sharply into his mind, making him gasp in pain.

Schuldig ground into him for endless minutes, crushing him into the car, thrusting his erection against him as a kind of sickening, brutal excitement flooded into him from the telepath. Grunts of effort echoed in his ears; his own and Schuldig's. His brain was overridden with the sight of his own face in profile, eyes screwed tightly shut, mouth gaping partly open at each ruthless shove that stole his breath, biting his lip at each harsh rasp of zipper and belt buckle across his skin.

"You are fortunate I came prepared. I do so hate fucking dry... the burn later is hardly worth the effort," Schuldig said against his back, his breathing rough, eager. He could see/feel the effort the telepath was making, feeding him the sight of his own body as the man slid a shaking hand down his butt again, over his hip, and reached around below to grab his flaccid cock. "Ooh, you really don't like this, do you?"

"No," he spat, seeing his own eyes flash open in anger.

"A challenge? Shall I make you want it?" Then the images of himself disappeared in a stronger wave of lust, rolling through him in a nauseating invasion from the telepath's mind. As if from a distance, he felt the heat of Schuldig's amplified desire seep into his body, alien and unwelcome, overwhelming him. His cock stirred in Schuldig's hand, gradually stroked by mind and fingers to reluctant hardness.

"Better," Schuldig hissed, leaving off stroking his cock at last to reach into his own coat pocket again. He lay there, gasping and panting, struggling to keep his hips from arching against the side of the car in response to Schuldig's need, failed. Mind whirling angrily, yet still lost in the other's heat and lust. He knew it was not his desire. It came from outside him, was being forced on him, yet his body responded anyway, betraying him.

Sickened, he heard the sound of a zipper opening, a wet splotching sound, then two fingers were sliding slickly down the crack of his ass to probe at his anus. Wet and intrusive. Messy. Lip curling in distaste, he jerked forward, trying to escape the touch, succeeding only in crushing his own hardened cock painfully against the side of the car and bruising his hip bones. He grunted as the fingers pushed relentlessly inside him, piercing him, scissoring apart almost immediately. Making him wince at the unfamiliar stretch, the sting of tender flesh opened as it wasn't meant to be.

"Tight," Schuldig said in satisfaction, voice gone low and hoarse with the raw anticipation and cruel greed that he could still feel pouring into his own mind, heating his blood. "Very tight, my kitten. This will hurt you no matter how much lube I use."

"Get on with it," he hissed back, closing his eyes against the inevitable. Burying his trembling rage, his anxiety, his sharp humiliation beneath a thin shell of indifference. Wanting to deny Schuldig that much satisfaction.

Hot breath gusted over his back as the other man laughed at what he could surely tell was bravado. "If you insist..."

The fingers disappeared and then he was being impaled by something much broader and far more relentless. Stabbing deep. Stretching him. Pressing him forward. Crushing him. His breath left him at the pain of it, his head arching up, teeth gritting tightly against a cry despite the triumphant satisfaction that rolled into him from Schuldig's mind.

It hurt worse than he had imagined it would, this humiliating invasion of his body. It was agony, making the false desire Schuldig had filled him with fade abruptly. But Schuldig didn't seem to care any longer. He had leaned back, sharp hipbones pressing into the meat of his buttocks, both hands clamped tightly around his waist as the punishing cock thrust all the way inside of him. He felt almost as if he would split, body screaming at him to struggle, to escape, and only the iron force of his will kept his body still. He had come this far, he though fiercely, bitterly, he would not ruin the chance this gave him to rid his sister of Schuldig's peril. He was a whore for death, why not be a whore in truth too?

Schuldig pulled back and began to thrust then, over and over, hips surging, cock dragging fire over the protesting ring of muscle. He couldn't hold back the grunts of pain then, but the telepath was absorbed in his own lustful need, focus narrowed to the slick pressure around his cock, the satisfaction of taking his enemy this way, the triumph of his proud enemy submitting to his will. It all surged into him with each ruthless plunge into his body, making his mind ache, his body quiver.

Schuldig was saying something in German, the words guttural and harsh, the meaning coming clear through the mental wash. Possessive, derogatory words. He groaned as Schuldig bent low, the man thrusting harder, moving faster as his pleasure peaked, until he shuddered and stilled, ejaculating inside him. He felt the heat fill him, marking him, tainting him. His stomach surged, but he managed not to vomit, barely forcing the bile back down his throat as Schuldig collapsed onto his back, crushing him with his weight as he lay there, catching his breath. Oily satisfaction and callous contentment poured into him, making him fight another surge of bile.

"Ah, not bad," Schuldig breathed in his ear, voice low and throbbing with mocking amusement. A hand wound into his hair, pressing his face harder onto the hood of the car, the other caught his bound wrists, twisting them brutally against the metal cuffs. Pinning him completely against the car, trapped under the other man's weight, his legs still trapped by his own clothing, the telepath's cock still buried deep inside him, softened, but giving him no relief. Angry humiliation rolled through him, futile and bitter. "You're a pretty good fuck, Fujimiya Ran... almost as good as your sister."

Images rolled into his mind then, of his sister's face flushed and panting... her long dark hair tumbled around her head... her bare legs pressed up high against her chest... her crossed wrists pinned over her head by one long hand... orange-red hair dangling down near her bruised, gasping mouth... her body shuddering regularly with the force of unmistakable, rhythmic thrusts...

He opened his mouth and screamed in denial, as Schuldig's triumphant laughter rang endlessly in his ears.

"I win," Schuldig said softly.

\- - fin - -


End file.
